Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
A woman gets my attention sitting on the red leather couch. When did she get there? She wears a black silk robe with a matching sash secured high on her stomach. Her dark brown hair is slicked back into a perfect bun. I never can figure out how to get mine to look so flawless. She has one leg crossed over the other and has topped off her look with red heels that match the couch.
She sits perfectly still like a doll. The only thing that shows she’s real is her eyes. They follow the man on stage like a hawk. Wherever he stands, her eyes follow.
Two men walk onto the stage, and she gets to her feet. The main guy turns to face her. “Remove your clothes,” he orders her.
With her eyes on his, she reaches down and unties the sash, then she slowly pushes the robe off her shoulders, and it pools on the stage at her heels. She’s naked underneath like I expected.
I’m as bad as the men I sit with because my eyes shamelessly look over her naked body. She’s gorgeous. Her boobs are fake, larger than mine, so at least a double D. She’s got a thin waist and long, lean legs. Not a single blemish to be seen. No tattoos, no scars, not even a scratch on her freshly spray-tanned skin. She has a Barbie-doll-shaped face with big pouty lips that I envy. Long, dark lashes fan her cheeks when she blinks. I can’t look away. She’s what any guy would drool all over.
“Hailey is a BDSM model,” the familiar-looking man announces to the crowd as the other two begin to tie her up. “She has experience and knows her limits. What we’re about to do is not something I’d recommend for a beginner.”
The two men walk off the stage, leaving her standing naked with her arms now secured behind her back. The way they tied her up reminds me of how Saint tied me up on the day I sucked the dildo in his office. It’s not identical, but it’s similar.
“This particular form of Shibari is known as a box tie,” the guy states, running the tips of his fingers along the rope wrapped around her large breasts. “Turn around,” he tells her, and she places her back to the crowd to show how her arms are secured behind her back. “This should be comfortable enough that your partner can spend a long time restrained in this position. If done correctly, it should feel like a snug hug.”
The rope is wrapped around each breast and cinched tight in the middle. It wraps around her upper shoulders to where her arms are tied parallel to her back. He walks over to her and grips her neck. Her eyes go heavy as he yanks her into him. Nothing but devotion in them. Pure lust and the need to please him.
I get it.
Some of us are just wired differently than others.
His free hand drops between her legs, and she begins to pant, her nipples hardening.
“My whore is soaked,” he states, and a few men in the audience laugh. Letting go of her neck, he slaps her pretty face, making her whimper. His hand goes back to her throat, and he squeezes. Her pouty lips fall open, but nothing comes out. His hand between her legs picks up, the sound of him fingering her fills the room as her watery eyes remain on his. Her hips buck as she rocks on her high heels, riding them.
He pulls them free and places his fingers into her mouth, pushing them down her throat. She doesn’t even gag. Instead, you see her relax her jaw as his fingers disappear down to his knuckles, spreading her mouth wide open.
“You’re such a good girl, princess,” he praises her, and she blinks. The tears spilling down her mascara-covered lashes leave a trail on her once flawless face. She has a full face of makeup on with black shadow, thick winged liner, and red lipstick. I’ve never understood the appeal when Saint would have me get all dolled up just to mess it up. But I do now. She looks even prettier with the black running down her cheeks.
He removes his hand from her mouth, and she takes a deep breath before swallowing. “Let’s get started.” He walks over to the far corner and grabs a box and pulls a rolling cart that I hadn’t seen before to the center of the stage.
One of the guys from earlier rushes onto the stage and places a set of carpeted stairs in front of the cart. He then undoes a few locks on the clear box. The top and each end are removed, leaving both sides remaining upright. He steps aside, placing them at his feet, and waits.